who i really am
by Polkadot-PENguin
Summary: When Draco Malfoy renounces his father and refuses to become a death eater, he is threatened with death for betrayal. To save him, Dumbledore disguises him as a boy named Andrew Wellington, and he is forced to do everything in his power to make himself un


When I come back as another  
  
A/N: Umm..review? :)  
  
"You'll do what I say, Draco." Lucius Malfoy sneered at his son.  
  
"I'm not a little boy anymore, Lucius." Draco informed him. "I can make my own choices. And I will  
  
not become a death eater. I will not follow in your footsteps."   
  
"You've always been stubborn, Draco. I admire that quality. But now is not the time to show it."  
  
Lucius said fiercely.   
  
"Goodbye, Lucius." Draco said. He had been calling his father by his name ever since he was 14. 17  
  
now, and with only one year left of school, Draco had learned to make his own decisions. He began  
  
walking out of the room, out of the house, out of his fathers life.   
  
"The Dark Lord will not be happy!" Lucius called out after him. "He'll kill you!" Draco ignored him and  
  
kept walking. Once outside, he summoned his Firebolt, mounted, and flew towards Dumbledores   
  
summer residence.   
  
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%  
  
2 Months later  
  
Hermione Granger strode into the great hall, along with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, off of   
  
one of the horseless carriages. The carriages that now held horses for Harry, and Ron and Hermione  
  
were very curious about what they looked like. Not curious enough, however, to want to watch  
  
someone die,* and not curious enough to be jealous of Harry or Luna, or anyone else who could see  
  
the horses.   
  
The great hall was already full when they entered, as they had gotten on the last carriage.   
  
Hermione did, however, notice an absence of one person, both on the train and in the great hall.  
  
That person was Draco Malfoy.  
  
Not a big deal, but still, she couldn't help but wonder about where he may be. Just as Hermione,  
  
Harry and Ron took their seats, the doors opened again and the first years walked in. Nothing  
  
unusual ever happened with first years, but this time, there was a noticably taller, better looking   
  
first year than the rest. Surely this boy couldn't be eleven.   
  
He was tall, probably six foot or so, with short, wavy brown hair. He had piercing, dark, mysterious   
  
eyes, and a quidditch players stance and structure. He was extremely good-looking, and Hermione   
  
could tell that all the other girls in the great hall had noticed him, too. He looked slightly familiar,  
  
but Hermione was sure she had never seen him before. He must have just been one of those people  
  
that looked like everyone. She drew her eyes away from him when Professor Mcgonagall walked  
  
onto the stage, carrying the stool that held the battered and torn sorting hat.   
  
"Students" She said in her loud, shrill voice. "Before we sort the first years, we have a 7th year, joining  
  
us from Durmstrang, to sort. His name is Andrew Wellington. Please welcome him willingly into G.."  
  
Mcgonagall stopped, seeming to catch herself at a mistake. She coughed, and said "Into what  
  
ever house he is sorted into. We will appoint a.. mentor when we know which house he is in."  
  
Andrew Wellington, the boy whom Hermione had known was not eleven, stepped forward and  
  
had the hat placed a top his head.   
  
"GYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted instantly, as if it had known from looking at the boy. He seemed   
  
annoyed, but approached the table just the same. There were several female groans from other   
  
tables, and extra loud cheering at the Gryffindor table. He took a seat opposite Hermione, Ron,   
  
and Harry.  
  
"Hello, I am D.." Andrew shook his head quickly. "I am Andrew." He reached his hand out towards  
  
Hermione. "And you are?" He had a light Bulgarian accent.  
  
"Hermione. Hermione Granger." she said, smiling and shaking his hand. "This is Harry Potter." She said,  
  
pointing with her head. Andrew shook his hand. "And Ron Weasley." She motioned to her other  
  
side. Andrew shook his hand. Parvati, sitting next to Ron, cleared her throat. "And this is Parvati  
  
Patil." Hermione added reluctantly. Andrew nodded at her, but when she reached out her hand,  
  
he shook it graciously. Lavender nudged Parvati, who nudged Ron who nudged Hermione, looking  
  
confused. "AND." Hermione said, smiling again. "Lavender Brown."   
  
Soon, Andrew had become acquainted with all of the Gryffindor girls. Hermione had thought it   
  
would annoy him, but he seemed to take it very well. Perhaps he was used to girls chasing after  
  
him. But Hermione still wondered where Draco was.  
  
"Hey. Hey Harry." She poked Harry in the rib.  
  
"Yea?" he said, looking over at her, annoyed at being distracted from the heated quidditch   
  
conversation with Andrew and Ron.  
  
"Did you notice?" she asked.  
  
"Notice.." he said slowly.  
  
"That Malfoy isn't here." She said, annoyed.  
  
"Oh. Oh Yea." he said, turning back to Ron.  
  
"WELL!" Hermione screeched. "Where do you think he is?"  
  
"I dunno, late." Harry said. He was obviously very distracted by Ron and Andrew, still talking up a   
  
storm. But Hermione couldn't help but notice that Andrews face had turned the slightest tint  
  
of red. Discarding the fact, Hermione made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, stood up,  
  
and headed to, well, the library, to do, what else, research.   
  
Andrew watched her go. How he hated having to pretend he LIKED these people. He, Draco   
  
Malfoy, was above these people, even if he was not his father. He was still a rich, pure-blooded  
  
Malfoy. Or, Wellington now. Dumbledore had insisted he changed his identity so that Voldermort  
  
would not be able to find him. After he had denounce the Dark Lord, he had vowed he would  
  
destroy Draco.. for not being loyal, or something like that. Dumbledore understood that he'd be a   
  
very powerful Alias against Voldermort, and therefore had taken him under his wing.   
  
And then there was the fact that he'd have to undergo hereing people talk about him constantly.  
  
He didn't appreciate being insulted behind his back. Even if it wasn't really behind his back. And oh,  
  
how he missed his hair, his teeth, his eyes, his over-all goodlooks. But, he supposed even in hiding,  
  
he must have looked good, because all the girls of Gryffindor, and, well, all the other houses, were  
  
oogling at him. Still, he missed being his adorable blonde angel self. Brown really wasn't his color.  
  
In eyes or hair.  
  
A/N: REVIEW!!! :) 


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